


Night Swimming

by redtulipslove



Series: Running Circles Around Time [7]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Fluff and Mush, Fluff and Smut, Love, Lust, M/M, Romance, Smut, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 13:39:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17940746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redtulipslove/pseuds/redtulipslove
Summary: This is the seventh story in my "Running Circles Around Time" series.These stories stem from my over-active imagination and a need to fill in the gaps of those in-between days and moments that Elio and Oliver shared when they became lovers, but we never saw.





	Night Swimming

**Author's Note:**

> Elio and Oliver go for a night swim at the lake.
> 
> This continues on from the previous story "Morning Glory".

__

_'The moon is low tonight'  
_ 'Nightswimming' - REM

 

The sky was clear as we cycled to the lake. The heat of the day had dissipated, and a warm balm hung in the air. This was light relief after a sweltering and frustrating day.

My attempts to occupy myself with music transcription in the garden had proved futile, so I had retreated to my room for a nap. Time slowed down and it took all my strength to resist checking my watch every five minutes, but this only made me think about the first night Oliver and I made love. The memory was still fresh because I thought about it all the time. I wondered if Oliver did too. Or was he the type who thought only of the moment, and all past events easily forgotten? 

Dinner was an odd affair. It was the first time I'd seen Oliver since breakfast. He'd managed to avoid me by shutting himself away in Dad's study all day. I don't know how he'd coped with the lack of a breeze to cool him down. Maybe he liked that. Maybe he was testing himself. Was this another lesson in self-restraint?

Maybe I should stop overthinking every single thing he did or didn't do.

When he saw me at dinner, his eyes lit up and I felt butterflies in my tummy. He sat next to me and our feet said hello underneath the table. The evening was pleasant but veiled with a curious sense of anticipation. Oliver seemed happy to listen to my dad and his invited guest talk drivel, and he joined in now and again. I was dying to escape and begin our adventure. I had got my second wind after a listless day, so when dinner finally finished, I raced upstairs to change.

Oliver's red shorts were on the bed, waiting for me. Had Oliver put them there? I remembered the last time I touched those shorts. I brought them to my face, inhaling strongly. 

The smell of Oliver was as lucid as ever. 

I put them on and wore them low, hoping this would please Oliver as much as it thrilled me.

When we got to the lake, I was relieved to find we were alone. Oliver wasted no time in taking the plunge into the water, diving underneath and reappearing seconds later. I was still working my way up to it.

"What are you waiting for?" Oliver shouted. "Jump in!" Even though the water looked like an inviting cool respite after the sweltering heat of the day, I wasn't as brave as him and it took me a couple of attempts before I immersed myself completely. 

I swam towards Oliver and he grabbed me by the waist, his strong arms keeping me from going under. 

I thought about the last time we were here. I'd acted distant and cold whilst Oliver had felt rejected and confused. My only defence was I didn't know what the hell I wanted, even if my body had other ideas. 

I knew what I wanted now.

"Was it worth the wait?" I teased, as I wrapped my legs around him.

"Are you fishing for compliments?"

"Maybe," I said, "But can you blame me since I've hardly seen you or talked to you or touched you all day." 

"I need to rectify that," he said, squeezing me hard and kissing my neck. "But let's swim first."

He let go of me and swam towards the far end of the lake, his lithe movements and long arm strokes making short work of it. I was in too much of an eager, excited mood to do much other than splash around and wait for Oliver to swim back.

When he did, I climbed on his back as we made our way over to the water's edge. I bit and lapped at his wet shoulder and we both moaned loudly.

Once on dry land, he reached into the bag he'd brought and produced a blanket, two towels and a bottle of wine.

"A gift from Mafalda," Oliver expained.

"She loves you," I stated.

"Which has its perks," he laughed, holding the bottle up as proof. 

The night was still and I looked out to the water as we silently passed the bottle between us. It felt good to have his body next to mine. Nothing stirred, and it seemed as if we were the only two people that existed. I wanted so badly for that to be true. The lake shimmered like glass under the glow of the full moon. It was lower than usual and sat like a white balloon, suspended above us, illuminating the world below. 

"The sky's incredible tonight," Oliver mused, bringing me out of my reverie. I could only nod in agreement as we both marvelled at the millions of stars shining above us. There were so many there, they seemed to overlap.

Everything appeared illuminated and I felt wide awake. The moon and stars were entertaining us perfectly tonight.

I drank more wine, feeling giddy as I exposed my neck so Oliver could watch as it slid down my throat. I anticipated his next move, and gasped when he reached out and touched my throat with his thumb, something I discovered we both liked that day at the Berm. 

The wine was loosening my mind and heightening all my senses.

He continued stroking my skin, and his fingers pulsated on my every nerve. I leaned into them, encouraging Oliver to press harder.

“This is so worth the wait,” he said, finally answering my question. I mewled as his hand gripped and pinched my skin. 

After teasing me with his touches, he pushed a wet curl from my face and kissed behind my ear. 

These soft and rough sides of Oliver made me swoon in equal measure. 

"How are the shorts?" he whispered, as his hand wandered over them.

"Big, I replied, coyly. "But considering who they belong to, it's not a surprise."

"They look good on you," he said. Flattery was getting him everywhere. 

"How have mine been?" I said, touching the ones he was wearing. 

"A mixed blessing," he sighed. "Wearing them all day was not as easy as I'd hoped." 

"So did you fail your self-restraint test?" I enquired.

"It seems I did," he said, smiling. "Don't look so pleased with yourself." I tried to look contrite, but failed with flying colours.

"I'm clearly not as strong willed as I thought I was. Not when it comes to you, anyway." 

He didn’t look particularly sorry about that realisation. Neither was I. 

"I wouldn't have lasted as long as you," I said, deciding to confess and see where it took me. 

"You wouldn't have tried in the first place," he replied, smugly.

"I already did, that's how I know."

His face was a picture of surprise and curious admiration.

"Oh, this I have to hear." His hand was still walking around me, and I took a deep breath.

"Before your room became our room -," I started. His expression when I said "our room" was one of sweet delight. "I sneaked in one day when I knew you were out. Your red shorts were hanging on the bed, and I - "

"I know," Oliver interrupted. 

Now it was my turn to be stunned.

"What do you mean? How do you know?"

"I came back into the room one evening, and my red shorts were on the bed, out of place and they’d clearly been touched, and the bed had definitely been lay on. I know how seriously Mafalda takes making that bed, you could toss a coin off it." He smiled at me. "I guess I had a visit from Goldilocks that day," he said, as his hand began to move towards my crotch. "Or Sleeping Beauty."

"I can confirm no sleeping occurred while I was in there."

"Pray tell what did occur, when you were in my room, wearing my shorts." His hand was now palming my hardening cock, and we were both breathing heavily. 

I crawled in between his legs, stroked his thighs and whispered in his ear.

"I didn't wear them," I breathed. "I placed them over my face, inhaled your scent, and imagined you were there, fucking me."

I kissed his neck and a loud moan escaped his mouth.

"I pictured your cock going in," I continued, "as my face was in the spot where your cock would rest in your shorts." 

His hands were all over me. 

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes please.”

"Fuck, Elio," he moaned. "What you do to me."

He pushed me down on the blanket and we kissed deeply. My confession had stirred up residual sexual emotions from our heated exchange at the breakfast table. He palmed my erection through his shorts and I did the same to him. He continued with the sweetest of rough kisses, until they turned into something else. 

We were loud, but no one was around to hear us, except for the owls and crows, and they didn't care. 

Maybe it was the wine, or the confession, or the fact we were wearing each other clothes, but it sparked in us something that we had no control over. I was heady with want and desire and I knew he felt the same. 

He began to pull at my shorts, but I grabbed his wrist to stop him.

"I want to keep them on. Keep yours on too."

Confusion clouded his face before clarity lit the way. 

"Your imagination knows no bounds," he said. He kissed me again before he pulled me on my hands and knees. I turned to check that he'd followed my command, and we locked eyes as he pulled the shorts down, but not off. He did the same to me, and I thought I was going to come right there, knowing my fantasy was about to come to life. He drew his hands down my back, from the nape of my neck and down along my spine. I felt like I was on fire. 

I watched as he reached for his bag, bringing out a bottle of lube, opening it quickly to spread the cold gel on his cock and the rim of my ass. I anticipated the touch of him on me, and when it finally happened, I wanted to weep with joy. 

"You okay?" Oliver asked softly. 

I nodded. He slid a finger inside me, tenderly and slowly working to open and relax me. The wine had gone some way in doing that, but only Oliver could undo me completely.

“Yeah,” Oliver hummed, as I pushed back against his finger, and he did this for a while, slowing taking me to the brink and back again, and I knew I was ready. 

"Keep going," I said, letting him know I didn’t need to be handled with care. I needed him inside me. 

The restriction of our shorts was increasing the intensity of friction between us, and I moved along with him as his hips began to push into me. 

"You're so tight, so beautiful," Oliver murmured, as if to himself. His words dripped over me and I felt ecstatic that we were here, alone, together and this is what he wanted. What I wanted is what he wanted. 

"Fuck," I moaned. His hand had found its way on to my cock, and he rocked against me, stroking me in unison with the rhythm of his cock inside me. I could feel the pressure building. I didn't want it to stop.

The only noise came from his skin slapping furiously against mine.

"Oliver," I moaned. 

"Elio," he replied. "It's okay, you're okay." I nodded again. I wanted his body all over me. I wanted him closer than he was right now.

"Don't stop, please," I begged. He was so close I could tell, and I wanted us to come together.

"Jesus, Fuck, I'm -," he started and pushed in hard until he came, and collapsed over my back.

He continued stroking me and I came moments later. We lay down, breathless and in heaven.

Eventually, Oliver moved and grabbed a towel to clean us both up. He pulled my shorts up and did the same with his, kissing my hip as he did so.

I was still feeling the afterglow of our love-making. He held his arm out as I crawled beside him. He stroked my hair and kissed my eyelids. 

“You okay?” He asked gently, like he always did. 

“Me okay.” 

He laughed softly and I couldn't help but do the same. 

"Now I know how seeing me in your shorts must have felt,” Oliver said, his deep honey voice making my skin tingle. "Imagining you wearing mine was bad enough. But now I can see it for myself."

"Did it live up to your imagination?" I asked.

"Beyond my wildest dreams." He looked into my eyes and held me spellbound.

He looked deep in thought as he began reciting words from a poem I recognised as being one we'd found in Mom's collection only days before. 

_"Yours is the light by which my spirit's born,"_ he started. 

I listened as the words washed over me. Did he have any idea what he was doing to me?

_"You are my sun, my moon, and all my stars.”_

I nodded. We were in complete agreement on that.

We gazed at each other, sharing some giddy smiles and a nose rub. 

"Come on," he said suddenly, standing up and stretching. "One more swim before heading back.”

He held out his hand out to me.

“Are you coming?”

He pulled me up and I intertwined my fingers with his. 

My Oliver.

He kissed my hand as he led me to the water.

This time I didn’t hesitate, and we both jumped in together.

**Author's Note:**

> The quoted poem is by e.e. cummings.
> 
> I love the song ‘Nightswimming’ by REM and have wanted to use it as a backdrop to an Elio/Oliver story and the opportunity presented itself so I hope you like it! 
> 
> Kudos and comments always welcome and gratefully received!


End file.
